In Technus's Lab
by Harmonizing Dichotomy
Summary: After getting out of prison, Ghost Writer needs his Quantum Keyboard fixed, so he seeks out Technus's help. Technus is less than enthusiastic, but eventually agrees, and the two head down to Technus's lab to repair it... suggestions for new name welcome


"So what if it broke? It serves you right for what you did to us!"

Ghost Writer sighed. He hadn't been expecting the "Master of Technology" to be _eager_ to help, but he hadn't counted on such strong resistance. "You don't understand! The Quantum Keyboard was my main source of power!" He could hear the desperation creeping into his voice, but didn't really care. "And besides, if you knew the whole story you'd have acted as I did as well."

"Hmm." Technus drummed his gloved fingers on his doorframe. "I still don't see why _I_ should be the one to help you," he stubbornly continued. Ghost Writer could feel frustration at the taller ghost's persistence in refusing to aid him rising, when a sudden idea struck him. Now trying to hide his grin, he moved a few steps closer to the door. "Well, it's not as if anyone else would know how to fix it…after all, you _are_ the Master of Technology." He shot the other ghost a sharp-toothed smile. Technus "hmm'ed" again and focused on something beyond Ghost Writer, obviously thinking. "Besides, it should be a simple task for someone of your skill." That sealed it. Technus again faced the smaller ghost, pulling his door open wider as he stepped back into the house. "I suppose I might as well look at it," he said in a manner that suggested he'd been badgered, rather than flattered, into the task.

Ushering Ghost Writer inside, he then led him down a steep, oddly crooked stairway into some sort of lab. Grimacing slightly as he looked around, Ghost Writer took in the room. It was clear Technus wasn't very concerned with order; several long, metal tables were arranged around the room in no discernable pattern, various electronics (some still sparking rather alarmingly) sat both on those tables and haphazardly on the already litter-strewn floor. A few small but ridiculously bright lights hung from the ceiling at random heights, which Ghost Writer first noticed as he turned his head around and smacked his face into one. Technus cackled in that obnoxious way of his and the bespectacled ghost scowled, rubbing his sore nose. "Can you just look at it and see if it can be fixed?" he asked rather snappishly, holding out a bag.

"Alright, alright, fine," Technus chuckled, taking the sack from Ghost Writer's grasp. He turned around, swept a nearby table partially clear with a green-clad hand (several items clattering unheeded to the floor) and then upturned the bag over it, also not seeming to care as they tumbled noisily onto the hard surface. Ghost Writer winced, walking up to right behind him to better observe, hoping he hadn't made a mistake in bringing his keyboard there. "Hmm…" Technus shuffled through the pieces, occasionally charging them with his ectoplasm, as if examining them. Ghost Writer watched in fascination-it wasn't often that ghosts got to witness another's unique powers used in a calm, calculated manner. The usually motor-mouthed ghost was quiet save for intermittent mumbling as he studied the shards. Ghost Writer walked behind him to his other side, studying his work. He didn't know much about technology, many of the books he read being from before it was a wide-spread thing, and yet he could still appreciate the skill Technus obviously possessed in that area. It seemed it _had _been the right decision to ask this ghost's help, after all.

At that moment, the technology ghost turned around towards Ghost Writer to retrieve a tool from farther down the table and yelped at seeing the other. Ghost Writer jumped as well, startled by the sudden noise. "You-make more sound when you walk or something!" Technus sputtered, reaching over him to grab the tool. Ghost Writer chuckled, but stopped when the seemingly-older ghost glared at him. "Sorry," he managed. _"It seems he gets as immersed in his work as I do in mine," _he reflected as he watched the other go right back to fixing the Keyboard.

As time wore on, however, even his fascination with, and developing appreciation of, Technus's skill was not enough to occupy his mind. So unused to being around others for any period of time that talking to his current companion didn't even occur to him, he instead resumed observing his surroundings. The room was endlessly fascinating, if made somewhat intimidating from its promises of sure death to anyone foolish enough to try to wade through its chaotic depths. Ghost Writer was rather thankful that the table they were at was so close to the stairs they'd come from.

"Why'd Walker let you out?"

Now it was Ghost Writer's turn to start in surprise, nearly tripping over a lengthy wire on the ground. "W-what?" he asked, adjusting his glasses.

"Well, you broke the Christmas truce. I saw you get arrested." Technus placed the pieces he'd been working with back on the table, turning to face the black-haired ghost. "Why did he let you out early?"

Ghost Writer did not like where this was going. "What makes you so sure it _was_ early?" He crossed his arms. "After all, it _has _been six months."

"I, Technus, have had many problems with Walker. I would know that that's much too short a time to spend in his prison."

Ghost Writer resisted the urge to fiddle nervously with his glasses. It hadn't occurred to him that Technus would start questioning him about that…he'd had the impression the "Master of Technology" wasn't very bright, useless for anything beyond manipulating electronics. This was apparently not the case, however.

His green-skinned companion, meanwhile, seemed to sense his discomfort (or perhaps he was just tired of waiting for a response), for he continued- "Not as though escaping Walker's jail is a big deal for most ghosts, I've done it plenty of times-The Master of Technology cannot be contained so easily, after all!- it's just surprising you would." Ghost Writer stared, now confused. "After all, everyone knows you're a hermit and gutless, who'd have thought you'd break out of pris-"

"Gutless?!" Ghost Writer glowered at the other ghost. "I had to commit a crime to get incarcerated in the first place, remember." He'd stepped closer to the taller ghost while speaking, closing the distance between them to no more than a foot. His eyes lowered, however, as his temper died down just as quickly as it started, "Though I don't try to make a habit of breaking the law."

Technus stared, torn between the urge to yell back at the ghost who'd just yelled at him (after all, Technus did so love causing a scene) and surprise at getting any sort of outburst from the poet. "…that's true," he finally settled on. Indeed, Ghost Writer had never done anything to warrant police involvement before, content enough in his library-like house that he rarely even went into the Real World. It had always just been a fact, and one worthy of disdain, at that…but now, having the shaggy-haired writer in front of him, he was curious. "Why?" he asked.

Ghost Writer's green eyes flicked back up to him. "Why what?"

"Oh, sorry. Didn't realize I wasn't monologuing before that." The purple-clad man chuckled and Technus grinned in response. "Why didn't you ever…do anything?"

No one said Technus was tactful, Ghost Writer thought as he inwardly winced. "I suppose you mean, why didn't I go and torment humans like I'm sure you do?"

"Well yes, that." A pair of green eyes were rolled. "But you never even did anything in the Ghost Zone. You were always in your house."

The simple and honest way Technus was saying things was almost childlike, almost innocent. "I just…never needed to do anything else." Ghost Writer shifted his gaze downwards, eyes focused on his scarf's frayed edge. Even though Technus wore dark sunglasses, making it impossible to see his eyes, he still felt oddly uncomfortable talking to his face like that. Yelling at Danny was different than telling this ghost about his "hermit" habits. "I've been on my own for years. Since I can remember, it seems." He refocused his sights on Technus's lab coat, gaze moving back up until he stared straight ahead, towards the base of the taller one's neck. A green neck, but a smooth-skinned one, he noted, and it glowed with that odd light that all ghosts have. "Our topic of discussion certainly has changed," he said as he remembered how the whole conversation started.

"Mhm," Technus hummed in agreeance, before, "Don't change the subject."

Ghost Writer rolled his eyes for what felt like the tenth time that day, a small smile returning to his pale face. "Now, why would I do that?"

He was rewarded with a chuckle from the other ghost, and he watched with slight fascination at the way his chest moved when he did that. Finally looking back up, he was surprised to see Technus staring back at him. Rather, he was surprised at the _way_ Technus was staring at him. Like he was just beginning to see something, like he was utterly enraptured by what he saw. Ghost Writer felt suddenly nervous at the look on his face and as he realized how close they were standing. Beginning to back away from his taller companion, he started, "Look, maybe we should get back to fixing-" He broke off as he felt a gloved hand on each of his arms, keeping him from backing away and in fact pulling him a few inches closer. Looking up, he saw that Technus looked just as surprised as he that he'd grabbed him.

"I…" for the first time, Technus seemed to be at a loss for words.

Ghost Writer found he could relate. "Uh, we…." He stared at the other ghost's face, watching as sudden worry crossed it, before his cheeks reddened slightly. Technus looked away from him, releasing his arms and beginning to open and close his mouth wordlessly, occasionally turning back towards the writer. "Sorry." He said finally.

Ghost Writer stared, a rather odd feeling overcoming him when the other let go of him and backed away. "For what?"

Technus blushed a bit harder. "Nothing." He fairly stalked back over to the table from before. "I'll get back to working on your keyboard, like you suggested." Now Ghost Writer was _very_ confused, both by the ghost in front of him and that odd feeling he was starting to get. Walking over to behind the taller one, he saw Technus's hands tremble slightly as he continued placing pieces carefully back together. "What's wrong?" he asked, concerned. He may not have spoken much to the loud-mouthed ghost before today, but he'd been fixing his Keyboard, free of charge, for the past several hours. Technus hadn't just shut the door on him when he first saw his face like he'd expected him to, either. And judging by the way he worked, he had more intelligence than it usually seemed. "You're clearly upset about something."

Technus deliberately placed the parts down. Then, "Are you gay, Ghost Writer?"

Ghost Writer gaped at the other ghost. He certainly hadn't been expecting _that_ as an answer. What did that have to do with his question, anyway? How could that matter at all, unless…he paused, staring at the other ghost. Technus stood ramrod straight and wasn't faced towards Ghost Writer, though the poet had a feeling he was watching him out of the corner of his eye.

If that was why he'd asked him that, in answer to Ghost Writer's question...the last several minutes fell into a new, surprising order. Technus was gay, it seemed…and liked _him_. Him, of all people. It seemed impossible anyone could, much less a loud, flamboyant extrovert like Technus.

All sorts of new thoughts racing through his mind, Ghost Writer once again turned his gaze to Technus, who seemed to have taken the poet's silence as a 'no'. "Well,_ I_ am." Technus flushed again, shifting uncomfortably. "I'd assume you're not though. And that's fine, it's just a…I was just…" he stumbled through the sentence some more, false starts everywhere. Ghost Writer was suddenly seized by an urge he couldn't remember having in his entire ghost life, and, reaching up, he took Technus's chin in his thin-fingered hand and turned the still-talking ghost's head towards him. Leaning forward, he kissed the green-skinned ghost on the lips, which immediately stopped talking. He felt Technus go rigid in surprise and Ghost Writer was suddenly terrified he'd done the wrong thing, before Technus returned the kiss, his body noticeably relaxing. After a few seconds, the two broke apart, both looking an odd mix of startled, pleased, and something else. "…maybe I am," Ghost Writer said, causing Technus to laugh, first a nervous giggle and then a real one.

"I should hope so," the white-haired ghost said before leaning in again. "You certainly kiss like it," he assured him when they separated the second time.

Now it was Ghost Writer's turn to chuckle. Suddenly he frowned, staring at Technus's face. Looking slightly alarmed, Technus immediately asked what was wrong. Ghost Writer smiled slightly and reached up, lifting off the taller one's sunglasses. Bright red eyes stared down at him now, bold and oddly comforting. "Nothing," he said simply. "Not right now."

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**I'm not entirely sure why, but I've always liked that pairing. **

**This is my first attempt at a romance story, and I tried to give it a bit less of the..."randomness" that seems to be a common theme in 'crack pairings' and slash. Don't know how well I suceeded. Though, the way I see it, neither Technus nor Ghost Writer actually have stated sexualities, so it's not as if that part, at least, is going directly against canon. **

**Any comments, good or bad, are welcomed. Flames will simply be laughed at and then reported. **


End file.
